Billys point of view
by Blue Dress Freak
Summary: This story shows what how everything turned out through the eyes of Billy, this story will also include extra scenes and endings. Hoping to post the last chapter on Christmas Day.


_Baby's first christmas_

I couldn't get to sleep it seemed that my body wasn't allowing my eyes to close so that I could restore some form of strength, the lights that hovered above me were fascinating there was:

Blue, silver even red.

The one thing that caught my attention the most was a large ball I could see my reflection in it along with a man who was sat behind me, I had no idea who he was but his charming smile that grazed his lips sent a comforting wave through me, he seemed gentle maybe even to gentle the sort of person that a woman would read up about in books instantly falling in love but the moment they meet the real thing they grew to hate.

"Merry Christmas Billy."

_Christmas..._ what ever it was that must be why there was so many decorations as I pondered over my limitation on vocal cords I found myself being drawn to another figure, this one had different skull structure the eyes were cold, harsh it sent a shiver through me though that could just be because the window was open, the christmas tree shivered at first I thought it was because it felt the same way I do instead I noticed that she was holding the red ball, my red ball I wanted to kick my legs but nothing happened she drew her clutched hand towards me, I began to think she was going to give the ball to me.

I was sadly mistaken.

_Crack!_

I flinched at the noise it caused my heart to race sending my blood flowing through my body at a unatural pace, lowering my eyes I watched as the shards of glass were sprinkled onto my blanket I remained breathing calmly, I had already learnt my first lesson:

_This family shows their love through hate._

* * *

_To Billy love Santa_

The cookies were finally baked they were still warm from being in the oven as I hovered my hand above them the shapes were simple almost typical a couple of angels here along with a few christmas trees, my hands greedily dove into the small plastic bowls grabbing onto sprinkles that had been coloured, red green and white to enhance the christmas spirit when it came to baking I spilled the many colours over the cookies they easily stuck to the freshly baked batter next came the icing I like to take my time with it to make sure that it looked perfect these cookies were for Santa. Grabbing a large green coloured tube that almost like something that tooth paste she could belong in I set up straight and squeezed, I dragged my hand back and forth slowly across the tree shaped cookie pretending that it was tinsel. Placing the tube down I grabbed onto a yellow coloured one this was the tricky part pushing my tongue out resting it against the corner of my mouth, I leaned myself forward standing on my tip toes and began to make circular movements I was creating a nice out line for the halo my eyes narrowed as I forced myself to concentrate blocking out the bickering that was happening in the next room.

"Fuck Santa!"

My mother she always found fault in what my father did claimed that they were only together because he had made her become pregnant with me the words would usually make my heart sting, now after years of hearing it happen it was almost expected it the way that my parents would show each other love. Standing back I looked proudly at my work of art shifting my gaze I looked for my favourite cookie decoration the silver balls grabbing a small hand full I placed them around the yellow halo and across the tinsel before sneakily slipping one in my mouth crunching on it I grabbed the yellow plate walking out of the kitchen, my bare feet dragged across the carpet the table that was set in front of the christmas tree already had a tall glass of milk I placed the plate down carefully, gently pushing against the cookies to make sure that they wouldn't fall off.

Everything was perfect.

I sat down on my knees looking up towards the tree that was much taller than myself as I began to smile as I my father looked down at me, my blood ran cold at the sound of my mother's voice was slouched in her chair with her feet propped up a cigarette in her hand and a scowl across her red clown painted lips.

"Why you leaving those cookies out? Santa aint coming to see you. Santa is dead."

My head snapped in the direction of my mother's voice my eyes narrowed the thin veins that covered the crystal white of my eyes seemed to thicken as my heart hammered loudly against my chest, I wasn't afraid of her I hated her she was nothing to me just an unwanted toy that seemed to find its way back in people's lives without so much as a thank you. He could feel my fingers starting to tighten around the plate the flesh around my knuckles threatening to split my scrawny arms were starting to tremble, due to the pressure of forcing myself not to hurl the plate of cookies across the room. My father's hand pressed against my shoulder-blade it made want to flinch I didn't realise how cold his hands were compared to my anger heated body, I didn't turn to look at him instead my eyes remained on my mother daring her to say something else that would give me reason to break the glass in her hand.

"Don't listen to her. If you got up stairs to your room you'll find a surprise. Now go."

Forcing myself to let go of the plate I took off without a second thought not even bothering to thank the man who had made sure that every christmas I was treated like a normal child, dashing past my mother who for once didn't stick her leg out to make my trip I took the steps two at a time my head was pounding due to not breathing. Yanking the door open I slammed it behind me trying to give the impression that my mother had won, it would insure that she would at least attempt to be civil when I went back down stairs I made it to the wooden doors of my wardrobe in three strides there I silently slipped myself inside.

Crouching down I knew exactly where the surprise would be waiting for me, there was a rather large hole in my wall I shuffled forward on my knees unlike other children who would be afraid of things like this it was my way of getting away the horrors of living with my mother, watching as my fingers followed swiftly by my wrists disappeared in the darkness my hands waved around my brow creased at first I felt nothing until something solid that moved when my fingers brushed against it caused my cheeks to burn with anticipation. Dragging the box out of the darkness I placed it in my lap my eyes looked over towards a small piece of paper that had been stuck to the lid picking it up without tearing it I looked at the perfect wavy writing:

_To Billy, love Santa._

Tilting the lid up I left it half way off as I peered inside before pushing it swiftly off, my eyes danced across the object it was a small telescope.

I didn't have enough time to marvel over the glossy white paint or my own hideous reflection shouts from down stairs gripped my attention it shouldn't have happened, I was used to the rants and the howls from my parents this time though there was another voice one that I didn't understand carefully I placed my new toy back in the box pushing it away in the darkness hoping to hide it from my mother in the slim chance that she would come up and poke her crow nose in my things.

The shouting was starting to get louder I didn't know what possessed me to do it; I crawled all the way from my room and down the corridor that rarely felt the heat from my bare feet, I lowered myself down on my stomach turned my head and peered through the small gap where the carpet didn't meet the door my mother seated on the edge of her be legs crossed her hand lazily holding a cigarette, two pairs of feet seemed to be dancing I recognised one of them belonging to my father the other pair of shoes were unfamiliar a loud gasp from in the room caused my body to tense as I wrenched myself back before slithering closer, briefly I was greeted with the unconscious fearful look of my father. I made no move to scramble backwards I remained firm against the ground, as the bag was placed around the head creating a horrible rustling I pushed myself up crawling away my feet banging against one another toe nails, scrapping at the decaying flesh that I had been unable to get off during my time in the bath.

* * *

It was a tight squeeze...

The wood was cold against my chest it gave me an uncomfortable feeling like it knew that I shouldn't be a witeness to the acts in front of me, my mother was sat on her ankles as she moved her hands like a dog digging up a family of rabbits, I swallowed harshly my teeth banging creating a light snap sound that went unnoticed. I felt something brush against my leg it was to tight for my to bend my head so I forced my eyes to go as low as possible, a rat scuttled across my foot making me want to laugh as its claws seemed to tickle my flesh instead natural instincts accrued I tried to shuffle, myself out of the way only to create a sound loud enough that it made my mother stop in her digging and turn towards my.

My whole stomach grew in knots.

As the flash of the light burned my eyes seeing the fear on my mothers face an emotion that I should be feeling, as she and her lover could do the same thing to me I didn't remain in the same spot gripping onto the wood that surrounded me, I began to praticly crawl up the wall I heard the sound of my mother and her lover scrambling below me, a playful grin came over my lips I was finding this to be fun as long as I remained in the wall then they wouldn't be able to get to me, or at least that is what the voice in my head was telling me. The further that I climbed I found that having dust particles entering my mouth wasn't as fun as it had been before, it was starting to get cramped my head was throbbing my throat became dry, as I became striken with panic I headed for the one place where I would at least be safe:

The attic.

Dragging my finger nails across the cold wood I punched it twice it didn't occur to me that I would be heard, I just needed to breath I needed to fill my lungs with air that it seemed to have been deprived of so suddenly. Scrunching my hand into a fist I punched in desperation my hands pulled and tugged at the wood getting it out of my way, gripping onto the splintered wood I hoisted myself up through the hole a small gasp passed my lips when the wood cut through my clothing, grabbing onto the flooring I dragged myself through the hole turned myself around and laid on my back gasping dramatically.

I craned my head up my hair was sticking to my face and forehead the sound of the lock snapping in place sealed my fate, I was a prisoner up here slowly I lowered my head back down onto the floor my feet dangled through the hole that I had created for myself my hand rested against my chest I could feel my heart trembling in my rib cage as I attempted to swallow; my mouth was far to dry.


End file.
